War at Winterhold
by Zubzero8
Summary: Aidan sits with a bag over his head and his arms tied tight with rope. He's naked, dizzy, cold and can't remember a thing. Who are his captors? Why is he here? And why does he have a feeling he's going to have to use all of his skills to get out of this situation?


Aidan felt dizzy and cold. He has had this feeling many times before, the feeling of regaining conciousness. He needed to reacquire his senses and get a feel for his surroundings, but everything remained dark. As he felt himself being dragged, he also felt the canvas bag against his face and the tight rope binding his hands behind his back. He was at the complete mercy of his captors, yet he couldn't remember where he was or how he got into this sad state of affairs. He tried to utter some words, anything, but all that projected were some groans and moans. He felt powerless and weak, and he hated that with a passion.

He felt the damp stone floor against his bare skin, they had stripped him of whatever he was wearing. The echo of his captors boots told him he was in a cave of sorts. His captor must have been an ox of a man, dragging Aidan like his was a stuffed toy through the uneven cobbles. Everything else was deathly silent, all Aidan could do was wait.

The power of his captor was proven as he picked Aiden up with ease and slumped him onto a chair. Aidan tensed up with a mix of anticipation of incoming blows and the cold of his cavern prison. His captor ripped off the canvas bag impeding Aidan's senses and the light made his eyes feel like they were about to split open. It was several seconds before he could open one eye just enough to focus on his captor. He was nearing 7 foot tall, with a head as big as a sack of grain and arms as big as tree trunks. He wore a silver breastplate with a brandishing emblazoned in the centre, but he couldn't quite focus on it. Aidan took in big gulps of the chilly air before he spoke.

"Well, don't you look like a big, bald arsehole!"

His captor let out an enraged roar and pulled back his arm, ready to plant a punch into Aidan's mouth. Aidan didn't flinch, but a shout from the shadows saved him from a broken jaw.

"Baduk! Leave him! Sticks and stones, remember?" exclaimed the voice.

Baduk grunted and shot Aidan a threatening glance, before retreating back towards the blinding torchlight. Aidan could see more freely now and took in his surroundings. In a split second he knew where he was, the familiar stone walls, the chilling damp cold, the thick seams of silver running through the rock that seemed to flow like the wind. Cidhna Mine, in Markarth.

But why was he here? The thought just made his head pound. He turned his attention to the immediate threat walking out of the shadows.

Now Aidan was known to be a cocky loudmouth who always had something to say, whatever situation he seemed to find himself in. But this time, his mouth dropped open, there were no words at his disposal.

Cylmar bounded out of the shadows, in the torchlight his long robe looked a fiery red and the silver sword he brandished looked an impossible shade of white. His face showed dozens of scars, many of which Aidan could recall how he acquired them. He could recall these stories of Cylmar's injuries because Cylmar was his brother.

"Brother!" Aidan managed to utter, "Don't joke around with me, what is the meaning of this?"

"Ahh brother, always something to say" chuckled Cylmar, running his finger across the blade manically. "May I ask, why were you wondering through my mines?"

"What do you mean Cylmar!? Why arn't you at Winterhold College?" Aidan looked puzzled at his brothers unusual anarchistic look.

"Brother! You expect me to believe you are not with the Imperial Legion!? Well I'm afraid to inform you that your scouting mission has failed. Miserably."

This wasn't Aidan's brother. He had a close bond with his brother, got through many close calls and completed many a conquest with him. He settled down to become a professor at Winterhold College, Skyrim's college for magic wielders. His exceptional skill made him an obvious choice to teach the up and coming mages of the world. He hadn't seen his brother in over 5 years, but the man standing before him was a stranger to Aidan and a dangerous one at that.

"Cylmar, come on. Release me and we'll talk about this. There must be some sort of misunderstanding." Aidan leaned back in the chair, trying to look casual and hide his nerves.

"You are mine now Brother! And you can never leave."

The wide eyed look of Cylmar sent chills through Aidan's spine. Something has happened to his brother, something just wasn't right. Aidan stood and bolted for the door. He heard wild laughter behind him.

"Oh no Brother!" Cylmar boomed. Within the blink of an eye he vanished and reappeared in Aidan's path, the point of the sword pressed against Aidan's neck. Cylmar's eyes widened further and his cracked lips broke into a shaky smile.

"No one escapes Cidhna Mines!"


End file.
